Dance with Destiny

by Becky Lower

  “What did Joanna name her?”

  “Her name is Sarah, named after Joanna’s mother, and she’s the tiniest baby I’ve ever seen. She fit completely in just one of my hands. But, she’s healthy and I can’t wait for you all to meet her the next time we go into town.”

  Susannah spent the rest of the meal filling her children in on the other news from town. Then, she pushed back her empty plate and smiled.

  "So, tell me what you've done today."

  "Hannah brought a lot of firewood down from the pasture today." Jacob told Susannah. She stared at her eldest son, who was also growing up much too fast. His bony shoulders were weighed down by responsibility. Then, she turned her gaze to her daughter.

  "Is that right? We certainly need it, but where are you finding it all? I swear we cleared out all the firewood within twenty feet of the path years ago."

  "I went a bit farther into the woods, and found a couple armloads full. That's all." Hannah shrugged her shoulders.

  "Well, just be careful. I swear there's something out there in the woods. I could feel it the other day when I did laundry. Something in the woods, staring at me. Gave me the willies. I can't wait for your father to get back home so we can feel safe again."

  "I feel safe right now, Mama. There's nothing in the woods that will harm us."

  Susannah pulled her daughter into a hug. "As I said before, you're growing up way too fast. But your father will be home soon. Only a month longer, and he'll be back. He can stock the woodpile, help with the harvest, and kill some deer so we can eat venison this winter. I won't breathe easy until I see him walking up this hill."

  She could picture it in her mind. William would come home from the war and would run up the hill to their farm, wearing his blue uniform. She and the children would all dash down to meet him. Then, later that night, when they were in bed together, she'd tell him about the child she was already carrying. And they'd make sweet love to one another. Even as tired as she was, her body began to hum as her thoughts ran wild.

  She shook herself and brought her mind back from her dreaming to her children, who were all sitting quietly at the table. "Well, it's past time for you all to get into bed. Get into your nightclothes and I'll tell you all a story before you go to sleep."

  Soon, all except Susannah were in bed and sleeping. She washed her dishes and set them on the counter to dry before she allowed herself to sit and put together her mental list about what needed to get done tomorrow. It had been a long and stressful day, but the chores were relentless. She'd eaten the last of the pork tonight, so tomorrow she'd have to kill a chicken. Thirty more days to go.

  ♥•♥•♥

  Summer fell over the mountain as if it were a heavy blanket. The long, hot days of July rolled out in an endless sweaty line before turning into an even hotter August. Lone Wolf continued to gather up wood each day for Hannah to take to the woodpile. She rewarded him for his efforts by not only sharing some milk, but also bringing an ear of corn or a pocket full of beans for him to eat. He wished he could do more, provide them with some meat from a small deer or a couple of rabbits, but how could Hannah explain where she found the food? So he stayed in the shadow of the woods and only revealed himself when he was alone with the girl. He continued to keep an eye on the family from his hiding place in the woods across from the clearing. And kept wondering what had brought him here, to the light-haired woman.

  His cool cave dwelling was a welcome retreat from the relentless sun. Sometimes, when it was not too hot, he put the bridle on Ziigwan and rode bareback around the mountains he now called home. He timed his arrival back at the pasture to coincide with Hannah's afternoon visit and caught her longing gaze as she followed the movement of horse and rider.

  "Boozhoo, young Hannah, hello. Would you be interested in riding Ziigwan?"

  She sighed, and her small shoulders heaved. "No, Lone Wolf. I have too much to do to take the time to ride your horse." She lifted her hand and touched Ziigwan's soft nose. "Although he is a beauty. What are the stripes for?"

  She pointed to the three red lines on Ziigwan's flank.

  "Every time an Ojibwa horse goes into battle, he is rewarded with a mark on his flank at the end of it. That way, you can easily spot the most brave horses."

  "So, Ziigwan is very brave?"

  Lone Wolf nodded solemnly. "He'd love to take you for a ride."

  "Maybe when Daddy gets back." Hannah sighed softly.

  "When do you expect your father?"

  "Sully said the train with the 1st regiment would be coming into the station in town on August third, which is tomorrow. We may go and greet him there instead of waiting for him to come up the mountain. Although Mama says we have too much to do to be running into town. But we'll talk her into it before morning." Hannah gave him a huge smile.

  Lone Wolf bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. He appreciated Hannah's confidence.

  "Perhaps while you are all gone, I will spend my day adding to your woodpile. I can split some of the bigger logs instead of having the burden fall to your mother."

  Hannah stared up at him for a moment before she moved to the side of the cow. "Daddy will be back tomorrow, and can take care of it. It’s enough that you’ve found wood in the forest for us all summer. You don't need to spend your day at the woodpile."

  "But if I choose to spend my day there, I will. Your father will have plenty else to do when he returns."

  Hannah smiled. "Yes, he will be quite busy. I can't wait to see him again."

  "Tell me about your father."

  Hannah took a stool from the lean-to and sat. Lone Wolf sat cross-legged beside her, and chewed on a blade of grass, enjoying the sweet taste.

  "Oh, my daddy is the most handsome man I've ever seen! He's tall, with light brown hair that’s my color and brown eyes." She cast a sidelong glance at Lone Wolf. "You are handsome, too, though. Your hair is much darker than Daddy’s. And even though your eyes are brown, too, they are different from his. But very pretty."

  He smiled at her. "Miigwech." No one had ever dared to call him pretty before, but he let Hannah get away with it. He pushed back the tail of his long, straight, black hair, which draped over one shoulder. He had tied it back with a leather band that morning.

  "May I touch it?" Hannah stared at his hair.

  "If you want." He held himself still while Hannah reached out a small hand and took a tendril of his hair between her fingers. "Why, it's as soft as mine!"

  He grunted. "Did you expect it to be hard?"

  She laughed. "No, of course not. Just different, somehow."

  "You had better get finished up. If you are riding into town tomorrow, you still have a lot to do."

  "And we will be going to town. Mama will be talked into it."

  Lone Wolf stood then, and left the girl to corral the cow and take her down to the barn. Her father would arrive home tomorrow and she would have the hero in her life beside her again. And Lone Wolf would slip silently into the woods, never to be seen by her again. Once he made certain the man of the house was back and taking up his mantle of responsibility for his large family, Lone Wolf would once again take to the trail, and would find someplace else to be. Perhaps his destiny with the light-haired woman would have been fulfilled with his modest efforts over the past few months. If it were so, he was glad he had been able to assist the family in some small way. And he was grateful he could now leave without ever coming face-to-face with the woman again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Susannah led her weary band of children to the train station, where a swell of people had gathered to greet the returning 1st regiment. She longed to see her husband, but was as worn out as her children. Her mind constantly buzzed with work that needed to be done at the farm and spending a day away, even if it was to bring William home, was a day when nothing got accomplished. She spent the morning visiting with the others from town, and checking on Joanna and the new baby, Sarah, smiling the whole time. After all, the men were coming
home, and it was a time for celebration.

  The patriotic music from the ten-piece band got louder as the train finally pulled into the station shortly after noon. Thick, black smoke belched from its stacks, filling the air with its fumes and filling the lungs of the waiting crowd as the wheels screeched to a halt. Men in blue uniforms ran from the train into the waiting arms of their loved ones. Susannah searched each departing soldier for the light brown hair and twinkling eyes of her husband, but he didn't emerge from the train. Surely, she'd just missed him. Her eyes frantically ran through the crowd, racing from one soldier to the next.

  Hannah tugged on her hand. "Do you see him, Mama? Is Daddy off the train yet?" She jumped up off the ground, in an attempt to see over the heads of the adults.

  "Hannah, honey, calm down. Keep holding hands with Lydia, so we don't lose her. I don't see your daddy yet. He’ll probably be the last one off the train."

  A few minutes later, Sully took a spot on the crude dais, which had been draped in a banner of red, white and blue. He cleared his throat loudly, and the voices of the people on the train platform died down.

  "I'm going to speak for all of us, and give a big welcome home to our brave soldiers who spent the summer defending the nation's capital." Loud clapping erupted with his statement, and he raised his hands in the air to quiet the crowd. "Some of our men answered a further call and re-enlisted. We need to applaud their efforts and to help out with those left behind. We had fourteen men re-enlist for a three-year tour of duty. They are as follows..."

  Sully read off the names of the men who stayed behind to fight the war. When he arrived at William's name, he searched out Susannah in the crowd and gave a bit of a grimace. Her heart and her spirit sank as he read off the final names of those who stayed at the front lines. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away as Hannah, Jacob and Lydia gazed up at her.

  "What does that mean, Mama? Is Daddy not coming home today?"

  "No, Hannah, he's not. He's in the Army for three more years. We won't see him for quite some time." Susannah took a deep breath and cleared her blurry vision. "Come along, Hannah and Jacob. Hold onto Lydia. It's time for us to go back to the mountain." She readjusted the baby onto her hip and the other children formed a line as they headed back to the wagon for the long ride home.

  Sully reached her as she was loading them all back into the wagon. "Susannah, I've got a letter here from William for you."

  She stared up at him but didn't reach for the letter.

  "You should be proud of your husband for enlisting to fight, not angry."

  "That's a noble sentiment, but it’s a bunch of bull, Sully. Pride is one thing; providing for the children, quite another. He has made no provisions to care for us. How are we going to get by?"

  Sully rolled his big shoulders and placed his hand on Susannah’s arm. "You're young and strong, Susannah, as I keep telling you, and your oldest children are a big help to you. I'll help out when I can."

  "And you are aware that after October, all bets are off, since the pass leading up the mountain is closed off by the snows until April. I’m frightened for us. We'll all be dead by the time you can get up there again in the spring." Her words were bitter, but she kept her voice quiet, so as not to startle her children. "You can keep William’s damned letter."

  She turned her back on Sully, climbed into the wagon, and picked up the reins. From the corner of her eye, she caught Hannah's little hand sneaking out and grabbing the letter from Sully. Hannah might still want to hear from her father, but it would be a long time before Susannah would ask to see the letter.

  ♥•♥•♥

  Lone Wolf had the entire pile of firewood in the clearing worked up and stacked before noon. He went into the woods and found more wood, chopped it into sections that would fit into the wood stove, and stacked it all in a neat pile by the side of the house. He had wound a band of cloth around his brow when he began working that morning, but it didn't sop up all the sweat that appeared as the day wore on. He wiped the excess from his brow with his hand and surveyed his day's work. There was now enough firewood to get the family through for a month, or more. Hannah's father could spend his days doing something more meaningful than chopping wood. He would have his hands full to ensure his large family would be taken care of this winter.

  And if Hannah's mother would happen to wonder how the wood got cut and stacked, she would only have a suspicion about who did the work. Hannah had surprised him by keeping her word not to tell anyone else about him. He thought, despite her bravado when she called him out of the woods, the mere fact a savage Indian had been watching the family would have been enough for her to sound the alarm. Yet, she was always the only one to climb the hill to the pasture, where Bossy and Ziigwan spent their days chomping on the sweet grass, and he went about his business in the woods undetected.

  While he had the small farm to himself, though, he thought he would check out the barn before helping himself to a bit of food from the garden. The scent of fresh hay met him as he opened the barn door, and he breathed deeply as he stood in the doorway, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the barn. Then, he stepped inside and glanced around. A couple of stalls filled up one end of the barn. One would be for the horse they used to work up the garden, and today, to take them all into town in the wagon. Another stall must be for Bossy when she came down from the pasture each day. But there was one additional stall. Could Ziigwan spend the winter here? It would certainly be better than the pasture when the north winds began to howl. The barn needed a proper cleaning, but was in good repair. There was a small tack room filled with bridles and leads, all of which needed attention and some bales of hay, stacked haphazardly. He let himself out of the barn and wandered into the garden, his moccasins making no sound and leaving no tracks.

  There were still some tomatoes, a cucumber and some leaf lettuce. He took only what he could consume that evening, along with a couple of ears of corn, as payment for his morning's work. He sunk his teeth into the tomato, still warm from the day’s sun, enjoying the explosion of juice in his mouth.

  The sound of the wagon making its way up the long hill cut short his further explorations. He blended into the woods quickly, and strode back to his cave. The man of the house was back now, and Lone Wolf could move on. His destiny with the light-haired woman had been fulfilled.

  His heart was heavy at the thought of leaving this small patch of land, and leaving behind the brave little girl, Hannah, but it was time. Past time. He would pack up his camp, gather Ziigwan from the pasture and say a proper goodbye to her in the morning before he took off.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Even though no one other than Hannah had made their way to the pasture, Lone Wolf waited under the cover of the forest until he was certain she had come alone. She had, indeed, made the trek up the hill by herself this afternoon, but the normal routine she followed each time varied today, because she had been to town to collect her father. Lone Wolf stayed in the woods and observed her behavior.

  She took a piece of paper out of her pocket and sat with her back up against the lean-to as she read its contents. Huge, wrenching sobs overwhelmed her. She folded the paper and put it away, but continued to cry, bent over, knees drawn up, with her head resting on her crossed arms.

  Lone Wolf's mind raced. Hannah was the strongest little girl he'd ever come across. He needed to find out what had caused her to break down. He needed to determine what, or who, had hurt her. He needed to protect her. He vaulted over the pasture fence, landing silently only yards from her frail, hunched-over body.

  "What is wrong, little one? Maiingan?" He sat on his haunches beside her.

  She glanced up at him, tears still streaming down her tanned cheeks, and jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. Surprised, he held the tiny body, wrapped his arms around her, and let her cry herself out on his shoulder. Her little body was wracked with sobs, and he ran his hand over her pigtails and crooned an Indian lullaby, hopin
g to calm her. Several tense minutes later, Hannah took a few huge gulps of air and moved back from his arms. She made an effort to wipe off her tears from his buckskin shirt with one hand while she dried her cheeks with the other.

  "Miigwech, Lone Wolf."

  "You are welcome." He sat cross-legged beside her. "Do you want to talk about what has made you cry?"

  She took another shaky breath. "It's my daddy. He's not coming home."

  "The paper you were reading said so?"

  "Yes, it’s a letter from him. When Mama found out he had re-enlisted, she didn't even want the letter. I grabbed it from Sully before we left."

  "Did your father say why he chose to stay?"

  "Yes, but I don't understand most of it, even though I’ve read it over and over. Just that he's going to be gone for three more years. I'll be twelve years old before I see him again!"

  “You are nine years old? I would have thought you were no more than six or seven. Although you are a very hard worker.”

  Lone Wolf reached over and tugged lightly on her pigtail. "He will miss a lot of your growing up, then."

  She stared at him with a solemn expression on her face. "What does Maiingan mean?"

  He grinned. "Ah, you caught that, did you? I thought your sobs would have drowned it out."

  "Are you making fun of me?"

  He shrugged. "Perhaps, a little."

  His response put a smile on her face for this first time that day. Lone Wolf’s empty heart opened up a crack.

  "So? What does it mean?"

  "It means Little Wolf."

  She stared over at him. "You're Lone Wolf and I'm Little Wolf? It's almost as if you're the father and I'm the daughter."

  "Almost. We can be related by blood, if you want.”

  “How can we do that?”

  “By using a knife and cutting our wrists so we each bleed. Then we put the two wounds together, so my blood flows into you, and yours into me. It is the Indian way.”